


Secret Powers Trilogy

by WhatDoesTheFauxSay



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatDoesTheFauxSay/pseuds/WhatDoesTheFauxSay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz Fenton didn't expect she'd develop superpowers after Vlad forced her and Danny to fight one another. [Now includes both sequels: Secret Protector and Secret Potential.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Powers

The powers come slowly.  
  
Jazz only notices after a while. She's stronger than she used to be. Faster. Her high scores at the Fenton Virtual Training Helmet have increased, but that's only the start.  
She discovered she could hear things a month after the incident. Hums. Electrical cords, devices, but also, signals. Bits of binary transmitted over the air, from cell phones and computers.  
What's more, somehow, if she concentrates, they unfold themselves into meaningful words.  
  
It's embarassing, to listen. It feels like an invasion of privacy. But somehow, she can't turn away. It soon becomes natural, like you'd use your eyes.  
She stands in crowds. She goes up to the rooftop to listen to shortwave radio signals without needing a receiver.  
It's only when she stays up one night— all night— and doesn't feel tired the next morning that she realizes she doesn't need sleep like she used to.  
  
She keeps getting the urge to tell someone about this, anyone. Danny would be the obvious choice, but something holds her back. Finally, she tells Tucker.  
His eyes widen. He asks what happens; she explains the incident, what Vlad did to her, the simple, innocent-looking word 'nanobots'.  
Being Tucker, his first thought is ways to exploit this advantage. They argue.  
It comes as a surprise to both of them when she readies herself to shout at him and her words appear, in giant-sized text, on his PDA and all of the screens around him.  
  
After that, a meeting is called, the entirety of Team Phantom. Danny's eyes widen when he hear's what's happened, and he smiles at his big sister.  
Jazz smiles back; the question of her new powers is tabled for the moment.  
Once everyone's gone, Jazz experiments with an ectogun in the basement lab. The hard course— calibrated for Danny's capabilities, or a tough challenge for Jack and Maddie— is as easy for her as it is for her brother. (Except the speed part. She's still stuck walking. Then again, Jack isn't a sprinter either.)  
  
Jazz, not for the first time, starts thinking about her life choices and future. She's interrupted by Jack, proud that she's finally taking ghost hunting seriously.  
  
She looks at a jumpsuit— not the one Jack made for her, but one of her mother's, with the hidden pockets and integrated gadgets. The suit's... _concept_ suddenly makes sense to her.  
  
It's still ugly.  
  
In her head, she designs one in her colors; black and turquoise. She starts thinking what she would integrate into it.  
  
In the hours she's supposed to be asleep, Jazz's thoughts drift back to Vlad. She starts running over their encounters in her head, analyzing and reanalyzing them.  
Analysis gives way to research. With thought alone, Jazz flashes through the Internet, seeking information on the half-ghost billionaire and his holdings.  
After being chased away by several computer security systems, she realizes she has little knowledge of information security or how to circumvent it. Or even basic programming.  
  
She starts practicing all these things.  
  
(With her newfound knowledge, it becomes tempting to meddle with Tucker's computers for her own amusement; perhaps replacing the desktop picture with a startling face, or changing the speaker's sound to quacking ducks. However, she resists the urge.  
  
After the first time, that is.)  
  
With the new knowledge gained, Jazz explores the internal networks of Vlad and Axion. Several things come as a shock— _The Red Huntress is Valerie?_ — and then, later, _**Vlad** gave her the suit?!_ As she delves deeper into Vlad's life, she holds the man in lower and lower regard.  
She's at breakfast when she discovers Danielle, incubating in her vat as Vlad croons to her.  
  
She drops her glass. It shatters, and she has to make a hasty excuse about a ghost rat.  
  
Her parents scour the house with the 'Fenton Rat-Trap' for the remainder of the day.  
  
A week later, Team Phantom makes a raid on Vlad's mansion. Jazz does not accompany them; however, the security system does not recognize the trio's presence, and all ghost shields are inactive. Vlad is away, handling an unexpected crisis at Axion Labs.  
Danielle is smuggled into a thermos and taken to FentonWorks.  
  
When Danny introduces Danielle to his parents with an excuse about being his cousin, they accept it and return to their work.  
  
Eventually, Dani becomes a fixture at FentonWorks.  
  
Jazz returns to contemplating her life choices.  
  
By herself, she builds the jumpsuit she planned, filled with everything she'd need to...  
Upon consideration, she realizes she has no way to finish that sentence.  
  
She gets in the habit of going to the roof, activating the suit's camouflage, and invisibly watching and listening to the night.  
  
After one such night, she asks Danny what it's like to feel personally obligated to help people like he does.  
Danny tells her.  
  
Jazz has a lot to think about. She does it in the background, under cover of being studious.  
It takes her two weeks to come to a decision.  
  
  
Some time later, a strange news report makes its way through Amity Park.  
A figure, almost invisible, has been solving troubles in town; catching lesser ghosts, and stopping several crimes; at least one entirely before it happened.  
Jack and Maddie insist it must be another ghost, like Phantom, and set out to capture it.  
  
They return empty-handed.  
  
No explanation is ever provided for the story; few have seen the figure, apart from the ghosts and wrongdoers it targets. All, interviewed in human or ghost worlds, describe someone fast, nearly invisible, with complete control over the situations they place themselves into.  
They think. It's hard to tell.  
  
The 'creature' quickly becomes an Amity Park urban legend. Most people are divided whether or not it exists.  
  
Jazz Fenton knows differently.  
Deciding what to do with the powers was always going to have been slow. Slower than she obtained them.  
  
But she feels like she's made the right choice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She still hasn't picked a good college.


	2. Secret Protector

Jazz Fenton is a goddess.

From the 43rd floor, she watches over Amity Park. No ghost dare intervene, here.  
Her door is always open. If she desires it of you, or if you need help only she can provide, you have an interview with her.

It’s best not to be late. She reveres punctuality.

Amity Park glows beneath her, laid out in her electronic vision. Industry— _here_ , residences— _there_ , everything working as it should.  
This beauty is the subject of much of her contemplation, when she’s not occupied otherwise.

People who knew her schedule would wonder when she sleeps, when she eats; the truth is, she does neither. The power cord and its velcro wraps like a charm bracelet around her ankle if she needs it.

It doesn’t matter. None know her schedule. Even the secretary in the outer office is hers, surplus nanomass taking the form of a perky assistant.  
She sometimes sends it places as her representative, plays at being naive, batting opinions around like the metal orbs on her desk ornament. At the very least, it’s engaging. Usually, it’s amusing as well.

The city needs little management, these days. It’s as she planned. This round of electoral officers is fairly benevolent. One of the mayor’s advisers is hers, a human under contract with an earpiece for instructions.  
In the case of... stranger threats, like men of chaos or creatures of ectoplasm, a black-and-teal jumpsuit stands behind a concealed door.

Jazz looks at it, readies it with her mind. Under her guidance, it goes out to the city to perform her will.

But this is not enough. She gets bored, sometimes; then, her mind reaches outward, past the city.  
She finds Danny. Married now. With children, even now just showing the buddings of hereditary ghost powers.   
Far from here.

Fragments of her will travel with him, watching over him. Protecting him.

From time to time, she wonders if he suspects. She should write more often.

Her mind goes further. To whatever strange locale Danielle is in this week, doing what she feels is good. Dani has never been able to settle down.   
Jazz offered her a job, traveling the world under her suggestion; she declined.

Her focus pulls back, now. To her rivals. Masters of the unusual request, performing the seemingly impossible.   
She hovers around them, too. Nothing bad happens to them. Instead, opportunities that might come their way are diverted, finding their way to her, keeping her in distraction while the world turns onward.  
She enjoys her sideline; it brings her joy, as well as funds. Both are welcome.

She tried predicting the stock market, once; that was beyond even her, now that trading bots run wild upon it, their genetic algorithms striving for new ways to gain money.   
For fun, she added a single bot of her own, turning it loose.

It has lost several hundred thousand dollars.

With her remaining free time, she contemplates those lost. Her parents. First ghost hunters; now, ghosts themselves, palling with Skulker and other former enemies (if the communiqués she gets are to be believed).  
In keeping the boundary of the Ghost Zone, she tries not to enter it. Technus, somehow matured into a diplomat, has a wary dislike for her. A detente.  
They keep to one another’s dimensions, for fear of mutual retaliation.

With the last few seconds left after management, resolution, contemplation, protection, dominion, maintenance... she contemplates herself.  
She’s lost much since those days, a carefree high school student with a half-ghost older brother.   
But Amity Park has gained more. The question, was the tradeoff worth it, is a thought experiment... but she knows the answer.

It was.

With a sigh, Jazz resumes her watch over the city.  
Danny has left. Danielle has left. The portal is secure. Peace is prevalent.   
It’s up to her, now.

Jazz Fenton protects Amity Park.

Fear her.


	3. Secret Potential

Amity Park is her. Not hers; her.  
  
She doesn’t go by the name Jazz any more, most of the time. The appellation is too small. Her former body has aged, fallen to dust.  
  
She remains, part of the giant city that was once small Amity Park. It keeps its name, but as grown, guided by her to something great. Vehicles float through the skies as, from far away, Amity’s towers touch the sunlight.  
  
She sees it all, watching the city grow, change. She watches the people thrive. Only rarely does she need to intervene.   
  
Danny lived a long time. He’s dead now; inhabiting the Ghost Zone with his parents. His descendants come to visit, at times; the city provides for them. Jazz reforms, machine into body, so that that his children and grandchildren may meet their aunt and great-aunt.  
  
There are happy times, but they end too soon.  
  
Lately, she has been contemplating. There’s very little left to her. The city practically runs itself. Each generation of her descendants forgets her a little bit more.   
It’s close to her time. She can feel it in the rush of traffic around her, the cables under her streets. What could be her blood, what replaced her bones.  
  
Soon, it’ll be her time to let go.  
  
Not, however, before she finds a successor.  
  
She— Jazz, for a nebulous moment— lets her attention wander through the city until she finds who she’s looking for. A girl. About the age of 16. She checks her personality, finds it studious, contemplative, planning; a good match.   
  
Briefly, she notices in the genealogical records that the girl is a descendent of Ms. Valerie Gray; then that fact is released as unimportant.  
  
Planning for the transfer takes a day and a night. Slowly, carefully, Jazz unhooks from her developed city-body. Some systems are transferred over to automated control. Others are let run free; projections adjudge that future city development will be for the best this way.  
Finally, there’s only Jazz, her mind, and a swarm of glittering nanobots, like sunlight in air.  
  
She pushes herself out into the sky, admiring the gradiated beauty of the dawn skies as ‘she’ flies above Amity’s far suburbs. Estimating a location, she hovers, swarms, lets the fair winds blow her towards her destination.  
  
There she is. 16 years old. Dark hair. Backpack. Determined expression. Readying herself for school.  
  
The girl finishes, takes a step outside the house, unaware of the impeding change to her destiny.  
The mind that used to be Jazz Fenton, metaphorically, closes her eyes.  
  
Nanobots crash into the girl, moving through her skin and into blood and bone. She almost doesn’t notice; there’s no initial sign of their presence.  
Soon, though, the powers will come slowly. Just as they once did for Jazz.  
  
As the bots move into their set tasks, Jazz Fenton’s mind slowly dissolves. The mantle is no longer hers, now. It’s time to rest.  
One last splash of the girl’s mind appears before her; she metaphorically smiles, a split second before she’s gone.  
  
She knows what the future will bring.  
  
Amity Park will be safe and well; forever and forever.


End file.
